30.  So good, it's perfect

One day, March 7, 05 I happened to walk along the footpath in Adelaide’s Frome St. I spotted a piece of paper. Three large letters, N Y X, stood out and I caught them without any intention. Out of curiosity I turned and picked it up. Examining it as I went along I noticed it was a business card. I believe it had been folded in a certain way and left there, possibly only moments earlier, for me to pick up. (My autobiography is full of larks of this kind).

The way it had been folded it showed the three letters N X Y, plus parts of the phone number and the word ‘security’. The four digits of the firm's phone number read 683 (I couldn’t help thinking that plus 10 would make it 693) and 7. I saw another clue, which made me suspect further that the card was deliberately folded in this way. It was a security firm. The word security was folded to read se/curity (It/see you are it, why?).

When I looked up the firm in the phone book,  the address of the premises was 59 Royal Street (not exactly, but same meaning). I became even more convinced the card was planted; most likely by someone, who saw me walk along Frome Street and, more importantly, knew my Da Ninci code.

On Saturday afternoon 12/3/05 I was on the way home from the Festival in Prospect, where I had taken the photo of 7 pink balloons. (Chapter 27. My diary entry for 12/3/05 was so extensive, I broke a record of the number of pages used in one day – nine! I have learned to use blank pages, so I am not limiting myself to one per day).

Driving home that Saturday I detoured via “Royal Street”, when I remembered the strangely folded card. I parked outside the No. 59 premises and wrote a brief message on the back my business card to the security firm: “Do you supply body guards? I have one who protects me 24/7, even overseas. He is very cheap, free”. I slipped it under the locked front door, wondering what the finder would think of it, when picking it up the following Monday morning.

From experience I knew that other clues may be discovered in the area. I was not wrong. An intelligent mind had been at work: The major road, which branched off Royal Street, was much like Go-L-way, at the time this thought was very much in my mind. Two doors away the business name of “Dr. Phil How it” stood out as I got into my Suzuki.

I had hardly changed into second gear when another business name made me smile: Spot on. This clinched the deal. Lately I had established a rule for myself – if a clue I noticed was meant for me to discover, it must have at least 3 Da Ninci connections. Otherwise, I would not take it just as co-incident. (This is why the new Pope’s appointment in April 05 astounded me, more than mildly).   

I really felt my actions again that day were spot on. But the day was not over yet. Just around the corner, a few moments after passing our church at Enfield, I noticed a tow truck, which had just finished loading a vehicle after a crash. I was still excited about the NXY and 59 and Go-LA-Way-Spot-on-message, when the tow truck registered on my brain. I just wanted to drive home for lunch and a rest, when the familiar pattern started, a kind of tug-of-war in my brain. 

For half a kilometre the creative side of me wanted to investigate, while the rational part was tired and didn't want to get involved. The longer I kept driving, the stronger the gentle, but definite pull to act persisted.

You can do it. But I’m tired. There’s nothing I can do anyway. No harm just looking.

The italic won! I turned left into Main Street, left again into Somerset St and left again into Chaucer St. On this approach I saw the other vehicle involved in the crash, a Suzuki, like mine. Only then did I spot the roof sign of the crashed vehicle. It was a Driving School vehicle, like mine. 

I didn’t know the instructor, but name and business name (he was wearing his licence badge) fitted into my picture. His Christian name was Danny, his surname, I have forgotten, but it started with C. The name of the tow-truck company made me think that perhaps, all this had been arranged and I walked right into it. How unreal. But why!

(Talking about strange car crashes - Only hours before writing I heard mentioned on the radio about a bus/car collision at the end of our street. A short walk to check it out revealed something I knew, but only now an interesting fact sunk in – Bus Route 560 follows right by our house. 

Thinking back, the number 560 played an important role earlier in my story. More mystical is the fact that this number is linked to ES – the word for ‘it’ in German. I also knew the bus driver, being interviewed inside the bus by police. It appears this small episode passed the Da Ninci test).  

The instructor’s young wife had come, a baby in her arm and other small children, to pick up her husband. Danny and I chatted for a while. He told me his learner driver, instead of anticipating and overtaking a stopping bus, braked unexpectedly. The Suzuki driver, possibly ignoring the L-Plates and expecting unnecessary braking, hit the learner driver’s car in the rear.

(Instructors can stop learners from driving into danger. When it comes to speeding up, which would have saved the crash, many beginners are too scared to put their foot down to accelerate out of trouble, which would have possibly avoided this crash). 

Danny didn’t seem very upset and assured me he had another vehicle to continue working with, while his car was being repaired. As I talked to him I read the name of the side road again – Chaucer Street. The letters circulated in my mind – more Da Ninci? Of course it was – reading backwards can you see what I see? He see – How see?

During my election-poster removal phase I took one down at the end of Lord Howe Avenue. Just before driving off I spotted this. Pure Da Ninci, not only 503. The 72 looks a little like an L and V.

 72 = 71+1 = God, the one, won. I can see the arrow beside the numbers also as an L & V. God’s Love - the Victor. How Lord? Love on the cross, that’s how. 


If there is a rational explanation for my outside the square thinking, I would like to know. I believe that I am moving under the influence of the Spirit of God, whom I had known all my life and who promised to guide and lead us into all truth. Because I was committed to HIM, every action no matter how strange it seemed to myself or to others, I regarded as normal. As stated many times before, I was not acting after hearing voices in my head.

Had I not remembered the address at 59 Royal Street on my way back from the Festival in Prospect, I would have travelled straight home. I don’t know if I ever would have dropped a business card at the Royal Street Security firm, nor would I have seen the Driving School car crash. But I did remember. I did obey the inner prompting and stopped, where I believed God’s Holy Spirit had led me.

If there were any hidden reasons, why God led me there, I do not know. I was sure God was working behind the scenes and revealed to me only what was beneficial for me to know.  It was not up to me to find explanations, only to be obedient. Often months or even years later I realized, how HIS mighty hand had been at work, such as in this example: 


Unusual car registration numbers were one of the earliest mysteries I would not accept as co-incidental. After we had bought VHO 301 and I realized that Joel 2,28 was the same verse in the English bible, as Joel 3,1 in the German bible, I was fascinated and kept probing and praying.

How co-incidental was it that the people who sold us VHO 301, sold their house to this Ford owner. When I spotted rego U.. 228 months later in their driveway I had to take a photo.


In 2004 a literary sensation swept the world, ‘The Da Vinci Code’. I found it remarkable that a book, which is mainly fiction, can earn an author 400 million dollars. My simple fun code, which had developed over a number of years, and the stories that went with it, were all true. I had hoped that they would be of interest to readers, but as my wife Isobel kept believing - only half a dozen people or so read my writing.

It amazed and amused me to think that strangers, some as far away as the USA, could be reading and applying my code, yet my wife had no idea what was taking place. In April 05, almost exactly two years after my first USA excursion, I would be blown over with evidence, that my writing indeed had travelled that far.

On Friday 18/3 my diary reports that I woke at 2.31 am. Because I felt real alert at this cruel time of the day, I sensed I ought to be open, if God wanted me to do anything. I listened to an English speaking program on the German Network ‘Deutsche Welle, Cologne. I overheard the word abba (Abba is mentioned in the bible, meaning father). In the context, however, it should have been Abbas, the name of a politician in the Middle East.

How strange – a moment ago on the ABC News I overheard an item. The police found some goods, collectors items bottles, guns, firearms etc. which were suspected stolen from the property of the jailed Magistrate Peter Liddy. The news item finished with: “The police did not disclose how they obtained the item”. (There definitely was a ‘s’ missing in item).  

It was barely two days since I had uploaded my sensational (in my mind anyway) discovery at the Feather’s Shopping Centre. (The letter E held the key). I didn’t wait until a more sober hour of the night, but felt prompted to rise and fire up the P/C. Here is a translation of the message I sent in German:

Hi all,

One seldom rises at 2.31am to write emails. I listened here in Adelaide to the “Deutsche Welle News”. Then I had something in ‘Fein Sinn’ (fine in mind): Why not write to the Deutsche Welle, telling them how unusually refreshing it is to hear the News without any Suicide Bomb Attack.

Was that not a good thought?

Many regards from Australia. The world is indeed an oyster.

Dieter Fischer

PS   Recently I heard the News on our ABC Radio. The lady really read: “…2 President”. Your newsreader at 2.30 am this morning (4pm your time, her name was Maysee??) read Machmut Abba. This sound very nice, too. Please forgive that I always type in the e for an Umlaut, mein keyboard is so (ISSO).  


I was in a crafty mood that morning, cramming in a few Da Ninci codes. Sinn Fein, the IRA’s political wing, had been referred to on separate news item. Sinn in German means ‘mind’ and Fein, means fine. Machmut in German literally means ‘to make courage’. Was somebody encouraging a fine mind?

The reader’s name given really sounded like ‘may see’, which was one of the reasons the whole thing clicked. I purposely drew attention to the letter e and left the ‘s’ off in sound. ES may have something to do with all of this, but one can keep going and end up with an overload of the brain-control-unit. 


Sign near a friend’s place.

Say ABCeeeeeeee!



Of course my wife did not know or wanted to know anything about this kind of wordplay, which was as the word says, a play, a game. I knew it was harmless, even beneficial to keep the brain cells working. Having uploaded this game online, I had so much fun observing it being played in the community.

Later that morning I was amused during a short shopping trip with Isobel. She bought a few items at the butcher totaling $12.30. Of course, it could have been be co-incidence, but it was only two days after uploading the $12.35 bottle refund magic, which had occurred only a short distance away. I saw a product advertised on TV costing  $31.05 per metre. Why the heck the .05? Just to tease a vulnerable mind like mine or was there a brain behind this number, who could see it as the date in 2000 – 31.5?

I was and still am astounded and unsure how to categorize this kind of numbers game – comedy, drama, science, psychology or even theology? Behind the scenes of my outwardly fun-filled life lay a mystery and a drama waiting to unfold. It just was a matter of time.

It was frustrating that my wife had closed herself totally to any of my ‘outside-the-square’ thinking. Her refusal to open up and me not insisting on her hearing me out, preserved the peace, but also stifled progress. But I had to rely on my God to make the next move, whatever that would be.

As the time drama (or comedy, or theological documentary) rolled on I kept being reminded regularly that my feelings of frustration with my wife would be just how God must feel about his children, who would not listen to HIM. This morning I had the serious thought: What if I said to Isobel, our relationship is over, unless you listen to me or read what I needed to say?

Just like God will not force anyone to listen to HIM, I could not force my wife, whom I love very much, to change her stance. The upcoming USA trip, I had hoped, will make her sit up and ask certain questions. (The trip has come and gone – or should I say gone and come – without the desired result – more detail later, plenty of magic). Since I didn’t instigate all of this, I can only rely on God to work as HE wants to. Force is not HIS way, tragedy perhaps? 

I had another reason to keep the peace. After years of trying I finally was able to persuade Isobel to spend a weekend away from home - just she and I. I wanted to make this a time for both of us to just relax and enjoy each other’s company.

But what relaxes one is not necessarily therapy for another.

Chapter 31